


is it cool that you're in my head?

by pocketrocketrobbins



Category: Coronation Street
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 06:29:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13758255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketrocketrobbins/pseuds/pocketrocketrobbins
Summary: Rana can't sleep.





	is it cool that you're in my head?

It's 3am.

Rana knows it's 3 in the morning and she's got work tomorrow and she's lying awake because she can't shut off her mind.

She's trying, she's trying so hard. Zeedan's lying right next to her snoring softly, and she loves him. She really does, she loves him so much. She loves him, but she thinks she loves someone else too, and that scares her more than anything has ever scared her before.

Ever since Kate met Imogen, started dating her, it's been Imogen this Imogen that - everywhere she turns, she's there. Every time she sees her Rana feels uncomfortable. She doesn't like her, that much is clear (maybe too clear.) She can't stand the sight of them together, it makes her inexplicably angry every time she lays eyes on them.

When Kate accused her of being homophobic, she truly thought for a split second that was it. Her parents’ strongly held beliefs were ingrained in her in a way she didn't even want.

But that didn't explain why every time she closed her eyes she saw Kate.

Every night.

Zeedan kissed her softly, told her he loved her, and she replied in kind. He turned over and slept. And she closed her eyes and saw Kate.

In her head, it was Kate who kissed her sweetly, wished her good night, whispered proclamations of love as she held her, as they both fell asleep.

At least it was most nights.

Some nights it was different. Some nights Kate had her head between her legs, coaxing moan after moan out of her, teasing her until she comes with Kate on her lips and in her head.

The images come in flashes and sometimes, more often than she'd like to admit, she indulges in them, building on them in her mind. She wonders what it would be like to push Kate against the wall, bite her lip and pull her hair. She imagines her breathless, hair tousled, and lips swollen, guiding her gently to where she needs her. It's slowly driving her insane.

Kate consumes her thoughts, affecting her in ways she could have never imagined. She felt guilt like never before, knowing that whatever this feeling was, however it felt in this moment, wasn’t going away.

And what scared her the most, was that she wasn’t sure she wanted it to.

X

It feels strange, this new normal.

It's 3am again, and Rana is awake and thinking of Kate. But there's no one to lay beside her. Not any more.

Zeedan is in the spare room, heartbroken, in pain and treating her like a bargaining chip in some seedy poker deal. Only this isn't a poker game, and she isn't playing. It feels like her life is spiralling out of control before her eyes, and there’s nothing she can do about it. She’s hurt everyone she’s ever loved, irrevocably and indefensibly. She knows she deserves to feel like this, she owes it to Zeedan for the pain she’s caused him.

And yet- Kate lingers in her consciousness – and she hates her for it.

She hates that still, _still_ , Kate is the first thing she thinks of when she wakes up every morning. She still sees Kate in her head, only this time they aren’t fantasies. She doesn’t know if it’s better or worse that she knows what it really feels like to kiss her and touch her and love her.

She hates that her life has fallen apart, her parents are disgusted with her, her brother is disappointed with her, and Kate? Well Kate moves on, has moved on with Sophie, as if none of it ever mattered to her.

As if Rana was just another girl to her – someone to pass the time before she moved on to the next one.

Kate moves on, and Rana is stuck in limbo.

Imran asked her, if she could pick, if the luxury of actually having a choice in all of this was hers, who she would choose.

“There is no choice to be made,” the imam told her on her wedding day – and that was true, Rana understood that much.

There was no choice, because while duty bound her to Zeedan, her heart tethered her to Kate.

She hadn’t answered Imran, she knew it didn’t matter regardless because she couldn’t pick. And ruminating on having the ability, on being able to choose what her heart wanted, would only make everything ten times worse.

But as she turns over in her now cold, empty marital bed, she imagines what it would be like. If in a year’s time, with the contract up and her freedom returned to her, in an ideal world, if her parents loved her, accepted her for who she was and who she loved. If Zeedan was happy, had built his café and found someone new to love him.

And for her, imagining the future in an ideal world is simple. She wants nothing more than Kate by her side, in her bed, in her heart, in her life.

Because while she hates Kate in this moment, she loves her so intensely it physically hurts.

And what hurts more, is that as each day passes, the future she imagines, slips further from her grasp.

X

She knows, rationally she knows that if she’s to be in any fit state for work in the morning, then she really ought to get some sleep.

She’s pretty certain it’s nearing 1 in the morning, and despite her best efforts, she still can’t sleep.

She’s alone, on her side of the bed, staring at the ceiling and contemplating the events that have led her to this place.

She’s going round and round in circles, questioning how different things might have been. If, on that fateful day in October, she’d simply gone home after being out with Rosie and Sophie. Or if they’d never taken the van to that food fair together. Or even if they’d never met at all, if she had never come to Weatherfield to visit Alya, and they’d lived separate lives.

The more she thinks about it, the clearer it becomes. None of those things would have ever made a difference. She knows it’s sickening and cliché to say, or even think, but she knows, she knows deep down, that her and Kate were meant to be. No matter what, their paths would have crossed, and she was always going to meet her – and they would always be pulled back together, no matter what obstacles faced them or tried to keep them apart.

She glances at the clock on the bedside table, and turns to her side, waiting, waiting, always waiting. She hears the faint click of a key in the door, and exhales, the tension releasing from her body.

Kate tiptoes into the room, pulls her boots off and sinks down into the bed. She changes quickly, untying the apron still knotted around her waist. She pulls the covers back, and burrows into the sheets, turning to hold Rana against her. She tucks a lock of hair behind Rana’s ear, and breathes softly, whispering

“How many times must I tell you not to wait up?”

Rana smiles contently, and without turning around, replies.

“How many times must I tell you not to dump your clothes on the floor?”

Kate laughs softly, and wraps her arms around her waist. She drops a kiss on Rana’s neck and inhales.

“I love you so much.”

Rana turns in Kate’s arms, running her palms down her biceps, tangling their legs together. She kisses Kate softly, and opens her eyes to see Kate looking back at her, with tenderness in her eyes.

She rests her head on Kate’s chest, before whispering,

“I love you too. Now go to sleep, I’ve got work tomorrow.”

Kate laughs again, and Rana feels the reverberations in her chest.

She closes her eyes, and thinks the future really can't get any better than this.

**Author's Note:**

> so basically i love kana more than any couple i've ever shipped before and that's the tea on that. plus there's a major dearth of kana fics so this is my attempt at contributing. hit me up on tumblr @ pocketrocketrobbins and scream about these two with me PLEASE
> 
> (also if you're wondering, i listened to muscle memory by lights when i was writing the middle part where rana's alone if anyone's interested in angst) 
> 
> constructive criticism greatly appreciated x


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